The World Teacher Award
by notsosolemnly
Summary: The chaps nominate Professor McGonagall for the World Teacher Award, and quickly come to regret it.
1. Chapter 1

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 1

It was a normal day either in early autumn or late spring. Professor McGonagall had brought a whole bunch of sticks to class.

"Today we're turning sticks into snakes, ok? Now watch."

And she explained in moderate detail what she was doing as she did it.

Sirius wasn't really paying attention. He was doodling in his textbook and sighing.

"What's the matter?" James asked. "You haven't drunk anything that smelled of several different things at once, have you?"

"Curse be upon the rule that forbid teachers and students to be together!"

"How can you fancy McGonagall? She's older than your _mum!_ And your mum is _ancient!"_

"That's true. I mean, what sort of dark magic has allowed her to live to be 34 I sometimes wonder. But that's beside the point. But I suspect it's in the stuff she takes before bed."

"Oh, the chartreuse?"

"How did you know that?"

"Because you hate your mum as much as Oedipus hated his!"  
" _Ooooh!_ How _intellectual!_ It just doesn't suit you. _"_

Mac came by, holding a blonde beard.

"Excuse me," she said. "Can I borrow that newspaper? I accidentally turned Cas into a beard."

James let her have the sports supplement.

"No Mac!" the beard cried. "You mustn't let anybody see me like this! Who could ever love a beard?"

"You won't be a beard for long. Thanks a lot."

Mac ripped out a page and folded it to a bag. Then she stuck the beard inside, closed the opening and shook it a few times. Then she opened the bag again and flipped it upside down. Cas fell out, a little shaken but fine. She tidied up her hair a bit.

"Hey chaps!" she said, although that was mostly directed at Sirius. "What does 'MM' stand for?"

"Many, many things," Sirius replied.

"Aw! You wrote 'Cas' there!"

"Where? Oh. Woopsie." He added a 't' before the 's'. "Fixed."

"'DM'"

"Darling McGonagall."

"'CM'!"

"Cherie Minerva'"

"Why do you lie to me? I'm your girlfriend, I doodle your full initials all the time!"

She summoned her notebook, which did indeed have SOB doodled allover it.

"People keep asking what I'm sad about..."

"That's kind of creepy."

Cas rolled her eyes.

"I can't even tell if you're embarassed or confused. Don't tell me you fancy Professor McGonagall!"

"Ok."

"She's our _teacher!"  
_ "I know. Imagine the controversy. People would look with judgment, just like in some Shakespearean romance." Dreamy sigh.

"You think Shakepeare is a dried up poof!"  
"I just know Professor McGonagall would agree."

So Cas turned to James. "What's wrong with him?"

"I think it all stems from his confused feelings for his mum," James replied. "She's never shown any love, and so he's drawn to people who punish him."

"Wow."

"The Hospital Wing has no telly. Things get really boring when one is stuck there for a week after some quidditch injury."

"Well, it may be that what you say makes perfect sense. But crushing on a teacher is still _wrong_ and _disgusting!"  
_ "You're crushing on Saddist!" Sirius retorted. "The PE teacher!"

"That's entirely different! Girls mature faster, it's a scientific fact!"

"He's a complete a jerk."

"I know. But the desire to fix a man is just deeply wired in my woman-DNA."

"Why are you even a couple?" James asked.

"Because we can't have who we really want and will just have to settle," Sirius replied. "It's like a Shakespearean tragedy."

"You think we're a tragedy. Thanks," said Cas.

"Professor McGonagall wouldn't overreact. She's too strong and confident."

"Well, since you love her so much, why don't you nominate her for the World Teacher Award?" Cas asked, flicking through the pages of the latest school paper. "Then she'll love you back for sure! Laters."

She left them looking at an add with all the information.


	2. Chapter 2

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 2

When evening fell and Sirius had some time over, he decided to drag the chaps to the library so they could work on the nomination letter.

"Ok, let's do this!" he said, paper and pen ready. "Let's nominate Professor McGonagall for that award thing!"  
"Is it really such a good idea?" Remus asked.

"Of course it is! She's fantastic and hardworking and deserves the recognition and money! What part of that sounds like a bad idea?"

"The part where she'll take the money and resign."

Sirius put his pen down, and looked Remus square in the eye.

"I am shocked. _Shocked_ at how selfish you're being. You just want to keep her here forever for your own nerdy pleasure! Come on, I'm sure she loves her job enough to not want to quit."

"But you're doing this so she will quit," James reminded him. "Because you think that if she quits, you can be together."

"I never said I wasn't selfish. But I'm doing this for love so help me out here!"  
"But Padfoot, think about it! If she quits we will have to get a new teacher and you _know_ it's going to be somebody annoying! She's like the _one_ non-annoying teacher we've got!"

But Sirius just shook his head at him.

"McGonagall is great, but not exceptional. You ignore the possibility that we could get somebody really inspiring! Somebody with progressive ideas and likes poetry and just knows how to reach out 'to the kids' like in so many films I've seen! You know those films? There's always that teacher that the staff doesn't like because he's just way too progressive. And then somebody dies. All I ask is that you picture it. Picture somebody dying at the end!"  
James pictured it, but he didn't like it much.

"Does it have to be poetry?"

"The point is that the new teacher is so awesome he will make poetry interesting even for the likes of you!"

Snort. "Now that I'd like to see."

"Then help me write this letter."  
"Once again you have won me over with your words and hair. So, how do we write this letter? I mean, are there rules?"

"Only that it's one page of baking parchment. But these stupid sheets keep rolling together..."

"Here," said Remus, sticking pieces of gum under the corners.

"Wow amazing so clever-"  
"Shut up. Do you even know what you're going to write?"

"Not a clue. It's why I _neeeeeed_ you! Well, I guess it's best to just dive into it."

He put his pen to the baking parchment and began to write very neatly:

 _What can you say about Professor McGonagall? So many things. She is great. Just great. No other words, that's how great she is._

"These baking parchment sheets are so large!"  
"Sounds good. I mean, what else can you write, really?" said James.

"Just a suggestion," said Remus. "but maybe you could put in some examples."

"Of what?"

"Of the things she's done?"

"Oh yeah!"

"Ok will do!" said Sirius and continued writing:

 _Once Professor McGonagall corrected my homework and gave it a 10. She always corrects my homework. I don't think she's ever not corrected my homework, or anybody's homework for that matter, and I get 9 or 10 9 out of 10 times. And everybody knows that McGonagall is a strict grader, unlike Professor Sprout and Professor Slughorn._

"That's really good, in case somebody wants to nominate them," said James.

 _Professor Slughorn collects little boys._

"Ok how's that?" Sirius asked. "I need honest opinions, guys! I can take criticism!"

So Remus crumpled it all together and threw it in the fire, to Sirius's hurt.

"I still have _feelings!"  
_ "Look," said Remus. "You know those films you watch, with the fantastic teachers and stuffy headmasters? They're really sentimental. That's what your letter has to be. A tear jerking story of how McGonagall has inspired you. If you can't think of one you can always try talking to other people."

"Or make one up!" said James.

"I'll make one up!" Sirius decided. "How do people make up stories?"

"They base it off reality," said Remus.

"Damn!Ok, I got it! How's this?"

 _When I came to Hogwarts I was an angry, no-good problem-child. But today, six years later thanks to lots of discipline-_

"'-I _still_ am'," James finished.

"We're writing fiction now, Prongs. Learn to pay attention."

"You know the other way of writing stories? Ripping off other stories."

"Right. Ok, what stories do I know?"

Sirius ransacked his mind well and hard, but his brain was blanker than blank. Peter stood up.

"Well I better go now to my extra Transfiguration classes," he said.

"OK bye."

But James seemed to be onto something.

"Oh yeah!" he said. "How's that going?"

"I'm still as hopeless as ever and it's only a matter of time before Professor McGonagall gives up on me," Peter replied.

Sirius began to light up.

"But she hasn't. Anybody in their right mind would just quit, but not McGonagall. Her faith is strong."

"I think it's her sense of obligation that's strong," said Peter and left.

"I'll put that in the maybe pile," said Sirius. "Well, Prongs, I don't suppose you have any sentimental stories you'd like to share?"

"Not really," said James. "McGonagall used to worry about my home situation. But she's met my parents, and so she knows the bad influence doesn't come from them."

"Moony, then? Any tail-jerkers of how McGonagall has been like a non-crazy auntie to you?"

"Not really," Remus replied. "But I do owe it to her that I can chew bubblegum in all classes."

Bingo.

"I feel the tears jerking already!" said Sirius and began to write again:

 _The story I'm about to share cannot be told unless I let you in on my darkest secret: I am a vampire-_

Sirius removed the parchment from the table before Remus could get his hands on it and throw it in the fire.

"So this is what I get from trying to help you?"

"You are helping me. What's the point of helping me if you don't want to help me?"

"Why can't you do Wormtail's story?"

"Because yours is so much funnier! I'm being discrete, aren't I?"

"You're being exploitative."

"And you are being way self-centered. This letter is about me, ok? I may not literally be a vampire. But it's a metaphor for my immoral and corrupt ways. I often feel like I'm a monster."

"And how does the bubblegum come in?"

"That's a metaphor for the extended love that makes me human."

"Metaphors? How exactly is Professor McGonagall supposed to win any award thanks to a fairy tale that's never happened?"

"Well, no, because it did happen, to you. I'm just being discrete, ok?"

"No it's not ok!"

"Oh, pleeease? You always say you wish McGonagall would stop hassling you about your pets. Well, you just wait for the new guy! Everything else is so futile, when there is poetry!"

"Really?"

"Poets are artists, and artists are rebels."

That just made perfect sense. And also, there simply was no saying no to that hair.


	3. Chapter 3

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 3

Professor McGonagall was flipping through the Daily Erised whilst her students minded themselves, sipping tea from her 'O Cuppa, My Cuppa' mug.

"Very good you're all doing great keep up the good work..."

The door to the classroom opened. Two strangers came in, led by the Headmaster. One of the strangers released some confetti and balloons. The other gave Professor McGonagall a letter.

"Can I help you?" McGonagall asked them.

"I'm Bob Peter Peter and this is Lesley Mountebank and we'refrom the World Teacher Award, here to inform you that you have been chosen as one of five nominees."

"Me? But I've never inspired anybody with poetry. I drink from mock poetry cups!"

"Congratulations," said Dumbledore, rubbing a black eye under his half-moon specs. "Your nomination letter was painfully moving. I got to read it."

"What happened to your eye?"

"It was my bad," said Bob. "The letter just moved me so much. The story of how you fought the staff fronted by the rigid headmaster for little Oliver Pirrip's right to chew blood-gum in class, of how you would heal the whip marks on Pip's wee back because the Headmaster liked to use the rod to make sure the message hit home of how gum is food of the devils... The letter was 500 pages but I read all of them. And so when I met the Headmaster today all I saw before me was him removing his belt to whip little Pip just because he could smell his sugary candy breath from across the room and I just, well, I lost it. Bastard."  
Bob glared at Dumbledore, and tightened his fists.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "I sound terrible. When you get to this age you forget a lot of things."  
"I'm sorry but was it a rod or a belt?" McGonagall asked.

"I gather it was both."

"And hold on! Who on earth is Oliver Pirrip?"

"All names have been changed to protect his identity," Bob replied. "But one can still make educated guesses as to who was based on who. Bastard."  
"But-"

"I am so happy for you, Minerva," said Dumbledore. "About time you were nominated!"

"You don't look very happy, if I may say so."

"Well, once you've won all that money you will want to move to the other side of the world."

"Not the other side of the _world._ Where is Tasmania?"

"It's below Australia."

"Oh. Then in that case the other side of the world. But let's not get ahead of ourselves."  
Bob and Peter handed over the letter which was the formal invitation to the award ceremony. Then they took a quick photo. Then they pestered her for an interview and although McGonagall insisted she was in the middle of teaching a class, Dumbledore very much urged her to cancel it. The students were out faster than a lash of the Headmaster's rod or belt.

"Awesome!" said James, because according to the ad in the papers the nominators were allowed to attend the ceremony in Wizard's Las Vegas.

"I guess it's true that when you do good, good things happen," said Sirius.

But hold the phones, because Remus was not about to overlook the less-good here.

"How could you make Dumbledore _evil?"_

"I didn't make _Dumbledore_ evil! I made _Headmaster Scrooge_ evil!"

"So your letter is in fact about how McGonagall fought _nobody at all?"_

 _"_ What are you talking about? It's about me. Didn't we have this talk? Oliver is me, Hagwash is home, Headmaster Scrooge is my dad and bubblegum is pop music."

"Oh. I had no idea-"

"Of course it's not about me! It's about you, with discretion and metaphors! It's like talking to a wall!"

"Here comes McGonagall! Quick! Whistle!" said James.

The chaps began to whistle and look at their nails.

"My office," she said.

"That was a quick interview."

"My office now."

McGonagall had four hard chairs ready and ordered the chaps to sit. She made herself comfortable in her comfy chair, and fondled the invitation letter.

"Congratulations," said James.

"Thank you. Now why do I keep thinking something terrible is going to happen at the ceremony?"

"I don't know. We just thought you really deserve this award."

"So I won't need to pack a helmet?"

"Were you going to fight zombies?"

"I want to protect my hair from hidden buckets of pig's blood."

"A Carrie reference!" said Sirius. "Good one!"

"Shut up. I'm prepared to believe you, so I guess you just really want to get rid of me-"

"Never!"  
"Which I don't mind at all. I just brought you here to let you know that this need not become a farce. I've read some selected pages, where you've flat out _lied,_ and I've decided to play along."

"Really?"

"Yep."  
She stood up. "Well me lads, I believe that was all. Thank you ever so much for nominating me, and let's not tell the award people it's all a lie in some attempt to take the moral highground, ok?"

She was eyeing Remus here.

"But," he said. "Dumbledore got a black eye because of that letter."  
"Ohhh... He says it was nothing."

"But what about his reputation? He could get sacked."

"Yeah but not over whipping students."

And then they were done there.


	4. Chapter 4

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 4

Time rolled by and suddenly the award ceremony was just around the corner, or weekend. The chaps had to get up early in the morning that Friday and wait for the flying bus in the entrance hall.

The engine roared outside the doors.

"Here it is," said Professor McGonagall, wearing a facial cream and rollers. "Come on."

The bus was empty, apart from the driver. McGonagall ushered the chaps to go further back, while she decided to go back to sleep somwhere in the first half. So the chaps made themselves snug at the very back of the bus.

The driver closed the door and the bus flew away.

"Will we have the whole bus to ourselves?" James asked after a while, and thus jinxing the possibility. The bus began to slow down and land.

"Next stop: The Netherlands," came the bus driver's monotone voice.

"Now I wish the award thing had been in Amsterdam!" said Sirius. "I heard that one time a cheese canal flooded a mushroom factory and everybody got free psychoactive cheese!"  
The bus stopped outside Clogmill to let on the nominee and nominators.

The Dutch students from Clogmill were all smoking marijuana quite openly.

"Vell, vell!" said one of them. "If it isn't Haagvaarts. Think your teacher has got vat it takes, do you?"

"No," the chaps replied.

"Correct! You got nothing on the painting ve did."

"You did a painting?" James asked.

"Ven Clogmill was flooded because of a leak in the pipes, our teacher Tulp took the sunflaavers from her sunflaaver gaarden and used them to staaff the leak. She nearly died. Ve painted it."

The dutch lads blew some smoke in the chap's faces.

"This time ve vill get rid of her, 'though."

"Great story wanna hang out?" Sirius asked and tailed after the dutch lads and their mairjuana.

He didn't stay with them very long, 'though.

"You didn't stay with them very long," said James.

"I just think it's too early for mushroom tea personally," Sirius replied and handed out reefers.

"Next stop: France," said the bus driver.

The bus landed on the lush grounds of Baguette Magique. The French students extended polite French greetings to the Dutch. Then they were clearly out of polite.

"Hon, hon, hon! If it isn't the garcons from 'Ogveurts!"

"Oh, sigh..," said Sirius.

"Excusez-moi! Do you 'ave a problem with our outrageux accénts? Way to be a bloomin racist you hamster-elderberry mongrel twit!" Pant, pant. "Woopseux."

"I know you're faking it."  
The French lad removed his fake moustache. "Ok you got us. I only have a light accént, just to make you go: Hm, I wonder what accént that is?"

"No it's definitely French still," said James.

"Anyway. Just know that the award will go to our Madame Poulet, as surely as my name is Michel. She deserves it for being so extraordinarily belle. Isn't that right, Baptiste?"

Baptiste struck a chord on his accordion. " _Chanson d'amour, je t'adore..."_

"Your teacher stands no chance for we wrote an opera in the style of Bizet called Cherchez La Femme, honouring Madame Poulet. She once arranged a bake sale at Baguette Magique to raise money for a noble cause."

"What cause?" James asked.

"Are you deaf? I just told you. A noble cause. The cause was the nobility. They're still being beheaded by trash, you know. I personally refuse to flee my country because of it. It's not very, as we say, brave."

"Come on, Michel," said Baptiste. "Let's go and have some wine."

"Ok, Baptiste. Catch you later, cousin a hundred times removed..."

The Frenchies left at last.

"I've tried to remove you a hundred times, too," said Sirius.

Morning tiredness began to get to James now.

"I hope that's enough stereotypes," he said.

"And all I wrote was this measly trilogy!"

The bus slowed down for another stop. There really was no making sense of the route it was taking.

"Next stop: Germany."

Great. Hosenwurst students. They were just the _wurst!_


	5. Chapter 5

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 5

After a very Eurocentric tour of the world they eventually reached Wizard's Las Vegas by the end of it.

"Alright then," said McGonagall in the lobby of Greedy Bastard's Hotel. "I get my suite, and you get two rooms to share between you. You're on the third floor."

They hopped in a lift. McGonagall gave the chaps their two keys.

"This is where you get off."

She, however, was not. Looking at the room numbers, the chaps enjoyed the hotellyness of the whole experience.

"This is it. The third floor," said Peter.

It was well redundant, but he said so little.

Remus and Peter got in their room first, room 311. James was just sticking the key in room 308 when they met Michel and his garcon chums.

"This was forgotten in the bus," said Michel, holding a bag entirely sewn together from patches. "Do you recognise?"

"It's mine thanks," said Sirius and took the bag.

Michel continued on his way. James had alread gone inside the hotel room.

"TV! Awesome!" he said and threw the little luggage he had brought on the bed near the window. Then he went over to the television and began turning the knobs.

Sirius meanwhile was going over the minibar.

"Happy Days is on," said James. "Oh, would you just look at them and their 50's quirks!"

"People were so old fashioned back then. Anyway, I'm guessing Moony wants is stuff back, so I better ring him."

Sirius went to the brown phone and picked up the reciever.

"Which number do I dial? The room number?"

"Or, maybe you phone, like the reception or some exchange, and they can connect you to him. Maybe that's how it would have worked back now."

"Odd sentence."

"Fonzie! Richie! Ok those are all the names I know."

"Well, this is a magic phone in a magic hotel, so I'm just going to dial the room number. 3."

Zzzzzt. Chkchkchkchk.

"1."

Zzzzzt. Chkchkchkchk.

"1."

Zzzzzt. Chkchkchkchk.

"What are you doing?" James asked.

"An impression of a telephone."

"You have sunk low."

"I am getting a signal."

Then he put on a different voice and a different accent. Nasal New Yorker.

"Hello, is this room 311? I'm calling about a bag that was handed into the reception just now. Have you misplaced a bag? It's mostly green and brown, and if I look inside... Oh, what is this? Seems to be bubblegum. So it is your bag? Then there are lots of, like, you know when you get a toy from a vending machine? The balls that the toys come in? Lots of those. Ok, great! Then the blow-up doll is yours, too. It isn't yours? Are you sure? I guess we have somebody else's bag then. Here's a blue fountain pen. Do you recognise that? It is a blue fountain pen, and when you flip it there's a man taking his pants off. You don't recognise that? So sorry to bother you, then. Then this is not your red calendar. Are you absolutely sure? I can look inside if you want. It's not a problem I can look no it's not a problem not at all well somebody's an enthusiast. 'Block the moon'. 'Ask Hag about his nanny. Giant umbrella?' You really are creative. Well, the book you're working on sounds super interesting. Here's also a blue hairbrush and an orange cardigan. None of that is yours, then? Not even the kappa? Yeah I accidentally dropped one of the toy capsule and it just popped right out. Look, why don't you just come down here and ask to see the bag? Just say you've lost your balls. 'I have lost my balls. I can't find my balls anywhere'. Ok? Good. See you then!"

Sirius hung up and glanced at the telly.

"Reruns. Anything else on?"

"Looking for Spells & Curses. But no, just Happy Days, Loveboat and Columbo."

"Wow three shows at once feels like the future."

"Do you suppose he really fell for your accent?"

"Who's never fallen for my accént?"

"Oh ha ha. I've never heard you use that one before."

"Use what?"

"Ok then."

They watched an entire episode of Columbo and there was a knock on their door by the end of it.

"If you make another prank phone call," said Professor McGonagall, still in those rollers."I will send you home. Is that clear. I'm going back to sleep now."

"Tattle-tale," Sirius snorted.

"The reception called her," said Remus. "Do you have my stuff?"

Sirius gave him the stuff and threw himself back on his bed to watch telly.

"I have a plan," he said to James. "If we pretend to have a fight, I get to share a hotel room with McGonagall."

"No, because she'll make you share with one of them."  
"But, if I have a fight with _all_ of you..."

James turned off the telly.

"I don't want McGonagall to quit."  
"You have to help me, because I am so in love!"

"No you're not, and you better have a darn good reason for this act."

"It's not an act. It's love."  
"It's not love. It's boredom."  
"How do I tell the difference?"

"One gives you butterflies and the other makes you eat butterflies."

"Are you saying I got butterflies from eating butterflies?"

James rolled off his bed and changed the subject.

"Hey let's go to the casino!"

"Alright!"

Then McGonagall came back.

"Oh, I forgot to mention: no visiting any casinos! If I catch you visiting any casinos you're going home!"

Then she want to have a nap.

So the chaps went to the casino anyway, to gamble and discuss cheating schemes.


	6. Chapter 6

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 6

Getting McGonagall to take home that award had been easier than taking a baby. All the chaps had to do was have the other students be caught visiting the casino. This would disqualify the the other nominees, because it convinced the jury that they weren't any good. Which was a little unfair, but McGonagall won, took the money and owled her resignation the next day.

And when the weekend was over and the chaps were back at Hogwarts, they waited with anticipation for their new and very inspiring transfiguration teacher.

They received Dumbledore.

"Good day, good day!" he said. "I will be filling in for Professor McGonagall until we've found a replacement. Now, today I thought we'd turn forks in to spoons. This is how it's done, watch closely."

And Dumbledore turned a fork into a spoon.

"Wow!" said Peter.

But to everybody else, turning a fork into a spoon was first year stuff. No actually, it was wizard grammar school stuff. Wizard nursery stuff.  
"Get a fork everybody!" said Dumbledore.

"Uhm Sir," said James. "We already covered the fork-to-spoon some years ago."

"Oh really?"

Dumbledore began to go through McGonagall's old file.

"Oh. Alchemy, it says here! Exciting stuff! I bet you have looked forward to this one!"

A button fell off his hat and he picked it up.

"I'm going to show you the Aurum Charm. Always a good idea to start small, hence the button. Here we go, let's see if I still got it. _Aurum!"  
_ He turned the button into gold. Then his hat, his desk and several chairs. He seemed to have put himself in some kind of trance, which had him compulsively turning things to gold, and he didn't stop until the entire classroom was gold.

Once he snapped out of the trance, he looked around in surprise.

"Oh dear. I forgot that the Aurum charm can be a bit dangerous like that. Use sparingly, for people have been known to go utterly mad. Wizards and witches have starved to death turning thing after thing to gold. Ok, so how do I reverse this?"

He checked with the file. " _Reversaurum! Reversaurum!"  
_ But nothing happened. The classrom remained as gold as ever.

"Strange. _Reversaurum!"  
_ He tried and tried but he could not reverse what he had done. He had to dismiss the class in order to owl support.


	7. Chapter 7

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 7

A few days later all of Hogwarts was gold. _All_ of it. The walls, the floors, the books, the plates, the furniture. Everything was gold and really heavy, even cushions and beds.

And what made matters either worse or exciting, the gold attracted dragons. All classes were cancelled and all students were confined to their commonrooms.

So one evening when night fell, the chaps packed some luggage for a trip and snuck out of the commonroom.

The dragons were sleeping, and so were all teachers. The coast was clear.

Until they came to the entrance hall, where the shadow of a tall wizard emerged from the darkness.

"Going somewhere?" asked Dumbledore sternly.

"Erm...," James and Sirius took turns saying for some twenty minutes, until Dumbledore finally interrupted.

"Not going to Tasmania, are you?"

"Erm..."

Another twenty minutes was wasted.

"Erm... yes?" James confessed finally.

Dumbledore lit up. "Oh, you are? Splendid! Here, take these plane tickets!"  
"Why, thank you, Sir!"  
"No, thank you. No point for any of us to hang around here, is there? But I sort of have to. Important phone calls and that. But you don't. You're big enough to go to Tasmania on your own, right?"

"Certainly," said Sirius. "And may I just say your reputation doesn't do you any justice. You're really not as mad as they say."

"How kind. I wish more people would realise my brilliance. Anyway, your plane leaves in ten minutes so you really must hurry. I can zap you to Wizard's Heathrow if you want!"  
And that's what he did, too. Awesome.


	8. Chapter 8

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 8

Well this was great. An all inclusive trip to Tasmania, complete with a week long stay at a fancy hotel. The chaps were well rested and well stuffed from a continental breakfast when they decided to look for McGonagall at the beach.

Really, James and Sirius just wanted to go to the beach.

"I thought we came to find McGonagall," said Remus.

James finished filling his inflatable duck ring and plugged it.

"She might be at the beach," he said.

"Come on, guys, stop mucking around!" said Sirius, knocked James's specs off with a beach ball and ran off.

"Eat sand!" James shouted, running after.

The beach was just a ten minute walk- or a shorter run- from their hotel. Sirius laid out his towel and looked out at the ocean.

"I think I see McGonagall swimming over there. I will have a closer look."

"Actually," said Remus. "Isn't that her over there?"

The middle aged witch in the tartan one-piece returning to her towel with a margarita was undoubtedly Professor McGonagall.

The chaps decided to say hello first, and then go swimming. They had all day, after all.

Seeing Professor McGonagall in a bathing suit seemed so wrong. Yet felt so right.

"Hello," said the chaps.

McGonagall eyed them over her big sunglasses.

"Oh, hello!" she replied, surprised of course. "Why aren't you at Hogwarts?"

"It's all gold now," James explained. "Dumbledore turned it all to gold and nobody can reverse it."  
"Also there are lots of dragons," Sirius added. "It feels so unsafe now."

"And what about you?"

"What?"

"Have any of you lads had a go at reversing it?"

"Well, no."

"Why in the world not?"

"We just assumed it was way above our level."  
"Yeah, because Dumbledore couldn't do it," said James.

McGonagall put down her drink.

"It has nothing to do with level or capacity. It's about quaility of mind. Only a mind undefiled by greed can do it, according to the texts. I can't reverse it either. So I urge you to look for help elsewhere. Shouldn't be too difficult for you."

"Where are we supposed to look?" Sirius asked.

"You're looking for somebody who's never done the _Aurum,_ because that's what 'undefiled by greed' means. Very few have not performed the _Aurum,_ because the temptation is simply too strong. I know of only one such person."

She said it so very suggestively.

Sirius looked back at Remus. "Do you mean him?"

McGonagall nodded.

"Most people would choose turning things to gold over the opposite."

"You make it sound like he's special. He was sick that day."

McGonagall shrugged.

"But I would totally have refused," said Remus.

"You can't refuse anything," said Sirius.

"Can, too."

"Can't."

"I refuse to agree with you now."

"Even if I tickle you?"

Remus took the beach ball, to protect him. Sirius moved in for the side, but did not even lay a finger on him.

"Ok I agree with you!"

"Ha."

"But I didn't feel that strongly about refusing to agree to begin with."

"Pray you will never possess valuable information, that Dark Wizards would want to extort from you."

"Well anyway," said McGonagall. "Have a go, and let me know how it went."

She went back to sunbathing and would speak no other word.


	9. Chapter 9

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 9

The gold had been succesfully reversed and all the dragons removed by trained zoologists when Dumbledore announced that he had hired a new Transfiguration teacher.

"Boys and girls," he said. "Please welcome your new Transfiguration teacher, Mr McCaptan."

Mr McCaptan looked like he was taken straight from the renaissance. He wore a frilly collar, puffy sleeves and white socks to the ankles as well as a baggy hat.

"I am Mike McCaptan," said Mr McCaptan. "Poet, playwright, actor, architect, florist, undertaker... A real renassiance man, I suppose. What does poetry have to do with Transfiguration, you might be wondering? Everything! I am here to show you the transforming ability of poetry!"  
Oh no, James thought. His nightmare was coming true right here! Sirius trembled with intense fear beside him, his apprehension towards boredom was not a joke. He was going to blow!

"Ah, yes!" Mr McCaptan went on. "'O captain, my captain'!"  
Goody's hand shot in the air. "Sir! What page should be open?"

"If you don't all set fire to your books immediately I shall have you all expelled!" replied Mr McCaptan.

He couldn't do that. Could he? James set fire to his book, and so did Sirius, and so did Peter. Most students did so. But there were some geeks who snuck their books inside their bags or robes when Mr McCaptan wasn't looking.

"Now I want you all to get up on your tables!" screamed Mr McCaptan.

"What for?" Remus asked.

"Are you questioning me?"

"Yes."

"How dare you?!"

Remus shrugged, confused.

"Get up on the table and do the opening bit from Richard III!"

Remus put dow the fire extinguisher and did so.

" _Now is the winter of our disco tent-"  
_ "DISCO TENT?!"

"I always say that... Sorry..."

"Get off the table! Detention tonight at eight!"  
"I don't find this inspiring at all..," Sirius muttered.

"What's that? You're not inspired?"  
"Not really."

"Then get up on the table and do the end bit from Richard III!"  
Sirius was not discontent about hopping up on his desk to do some drama.

" _A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!"  
_ He bowed to the rousing applause he recieved. This was a dream role for him, along with Warlock Gnomes and the Widow Twankey.

Mr McCaptan shed a tear. "Beautiful. 100 points to Gryffindor. You are officially my favourite."

James made mocking kissy-lips, and Mr McCaptan noticed it.

"Get up on the table and do any Shakespeare sonnet of your choice!"  
James just knew the one line from that one sonnet.

" _Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou is more cold than them puritans-"_

"Bloody awful!"  
All this sure was.

xxx

That evening, in the dorm.

"I'm sorry about everything," said Sirius. "Butterscotch flies?"

But James would not touch the stuff ever again, nor was he letting Sirius touch the stuff ever again. So he threw the packet of butterscotch flies- for those sweet belly flutters- away.

"We need to fix this," said James.

"How about we take out the old Brain Storm?"

"Here's the tea cup," said Remus, having already gone through the Box of Random Crap. "Yup, it's the one with the little storm."

He placed it on the writing desk. The way it worked, was that it fed off of lousy ideas. Only a good idea could quench it. But they couldn't think for too long, for the Brain Storm fed off indecision and hesitation as well.

"Right then," said James. "How do we get McGonagall back? Suggestions?"  
"Let's just kidnap her!" Sirius suggested.

The little storm became a huge tornado an now everything was noise and flying things. James had to put his hands over his ears.

"These are feminist times, Padfoot!" he yelled. "A chap can't do that anymore!"  
"Well blasted!"  
The Brain Storm fed off the pause a little bit. It was really annoying. Annoying and unhelpful. But on occasion efficient.

"I got it!" said James. "I mean, like, who or what does she like?"  
"What do you mean?"

"I mean, for example celebrities. Robert Redford? Tom Jones? Oh, Sean Connery!"

"Why do you ask?"

"We can, like, send her concert tickets in the mail. And the concert is here. Except it _isn't!"  
_ The tornado crunched down that lousy idea and grew stronger. Their problem was a difficult one to resolve.

"Ok Moony what you got? Shoot!"  
"Uhm..," said Remus.

"Yeah?"

"What if..."

"Mhm?"

"Or, maybe..."

"Go on."

"Or perhaps, if..."

"Right?"

"Oh! We put a dwarf in her bank vault!"

"What will that achieve?"

"Well they are known to like treasure."

"Let me just rephrase that," said Sirius. "How about we get somebody to burgle McGonagall?"

The tornado doubled in size and began to shoot sparks now. Windows broke and the chaps were pinned to the walls. They had to abandon the dwarf idea and just say the first thing that came to mind.

"Let's have an accountant look at her books!" Sirius yelled.

"Let's hold her cats hostage!" James yelled.

"Let's pester Dumbledore to give her that raise!"

"Let's pester him to hire Sean Connery as the caretaker!"  
"Let's ruin her reputation by having everybody believe she's a were-hyena! Yes, there are were-hyenas!"

"Where?"

"Hyena!"  
They couldn't laugh for long, because stuff just flew into their mouths.

"I got it!" Remus yelled.

"What have you got now? Another minority with a reputation for crime?" Sirius yelled.

"Yeah the dwarf idea sure was beastist!" James yelled.

"So wery tasteless!"

"Unfurgivable!"

"I know that was beastist," Remus yelled. "But this time I really remembered something un-beastist! The Pixiu!"

"Bless you."

"Please insult my intelligence," Sirius yelled. "But how is a small cabbage head supposed to help us?"

"Guys you know I don't know any French. Don't make me feel left out," James whinged.

" _Pixiu!"_ Remus yelled (it _was_ loud in here). _"_ You know. Winged lion hybrid from China. Eats gold! Ta-da!"  
"Do you have one on you?" James asked.

"Of course not. You'd see that!"

"You think now is a good time to try to be funny?"

"I'm sure the people in China town know where we can find one."

The tornado considered it, and approved.


	10. Chapter 10

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 10

On Friday the chaps went to Spring Garden Dragon restaurant in China Town, Diagon Alley, and asked to see the menue.

"Apparently they serve real authentic dishes here," said James. "Not just the spring rolls and fried rice stuff. Like, proper Chinese dishes."

A waitor came and brought them a menu.

"Well let's have a look," said Sirius. "Buddha Jumps Over The Wall. You can tell it's real when they have weird names."

"Lao Tzu Skips Over The Sandcastle"  
"Konfucius Flies Over The Loo."

"Emperor Ming Hops Over The Compost Heap."

"Actually," said the waitor, a Mr Wu Li. "There's been an error with the translation. You see, the characters meaning 'Emperor Ming Hops Over The Compost Heap' also mean fried shrimp and spring onions."

"Ohh."

"So, see anything you like?"

"Do you have anything with, I don't know, a _peekaboo?!"_ James shone a light at Mr Wu Li's face. _  
_"What?"

"A petty shoe!"

"What he meant to say," said Sirius. "Is that we're looking for Peggy Sue!"

"In that case, there's a record shop on Staker Street," replied Mr Wu Li.

"Actually," said Remus. "I think it's... _pixiu"_

"That's right, a pee shoe!" said James.

"Pixiu"

"A pixie jew!"

"Again with the racism!" said Sirius.

"So," said Remus. "Do you know where there are pixius?"

"We want to see your pics of juice!"

"How about you quiet down?"

The waitor lowevered his voice. "Do you mean pixiu the winged lion hybrid, or pixiu, a kind of invite to your mother in law for some tea over which to confess you having brought dischonour over the ancestors for having an affair with your wife's twin sister?"

"Exactly!" said Sirius.

"The first one," said Remus.

"Oh I see," said Mr Wu Li, and lowered his voice even more. "What are you, aurors?"

"Do we look like aurors?" James asked.

"Ok, orphans?"  
"No."

"The health inspector?"

"Do we look like the health inspector?"

"Their orphans?"

"We're _not_ orphans!"

"The ingredients is fresh I tell you!"  
He sure was stubborn. Stubborn and fearful.

"We're activists, ok?" said Sirius. "We're from the Beast Rights and Appropriate Treatment Squad!"

"Activists? Well, in that case, sod off! I'm trying to run a business here you ruddy hippies!"

"And we can do this with or without spray paint."

Sirius shook a fresh can. He always carried one with him.

They were three to one. The waitor probably saw them as four to one, so he made them promise they wouldn't spraypaint genitals allover his restaurant.

Then he showed them to a room that looked like the Diagon Alley Aquarium. A kappa swam around in a tank.

"We do sushi as well," he explained as he led them further.

"Here it is."

The pixiu was pacing around in a large cage. It was a lot bigger than any of the chaps had anticipated, the size of an actual lion but with a dragon's head and wings, and completely white fur.

"The pixiu is a delicacy," sair Mr Wu Li. "It's considered to be the cleanliest of all beasts."

Well he hadn't seen their dorm. Sure, the floor was a mess, but the tanks and window was sparkling, and not because any house elf ever set foot in there.

"The back toe alone is very expensive. And it's the cheapest part."

"I would have thought the sphincter was the cheapest part," said James.

"You couldn't be more far off. Anyway, you've seen it. Anything else I can show you?"

"No we'll just take it and leave," said Sirius.

"I don't think so. There's the price tag. It is hugely expensive. I doubt that, even with your pricy shoes, you would consider that a bargain. Besides, I never met an activist that _paid._ "

"When you see how we've spray painted the restaurant tomorrow, and what it will cost you to remove the genitals, you'll wish you'd just let us have it."

"I've already summoned aurors. They'll be here any minute."

"Oh, really? I think you'll find they're understaffed and to their knees in paper work."

"We have very posh guests from the Death Eaters and the Tojours Fromage alike, so I think you'll find," he paused, so they could hear sirens. "They'll be here in less than any minute."

James stupefied Mr Wu Li and searched his robes for his keys. Then he tried them all on the multiple locks on the cage until the door opened. Remus collected it in an empty vending toy capsule and they all escaped through a window.


	11. Chapter 11

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 11

Then plan was perfectly simple.

The bank was open 24/7, with only one grouchy black elf working the night shift.  
"How can I help you?" it asked, peering over PlayBeast- Elf Special.

"I'd like to make a deposit," said Sirius, and lifted his huge gold key on top of the counter.

The black elf hopped off his stool and escorted the chaps to the draisines. He hopped in the driver's seat and told the chaps to pull down their lap bars.

The cart began to roll.

The plan was to first cast the Chloroformus Hankie on the elf to knock him out. But this turned out to be more difficult than previously anticipated. Everytime the chaps tried to lean close enough, there came a huge dip in the railway which had their entrails nearly falling out. The deeper they went, the more tired they became, and the more dips, the more nauseaus they felt.

After a particularily steep dip, they began to travel upwards a little bit.

"Ok now!" said James.

Sirius knocked the elf right out with the Chloroformus Hankie and pulled the hand brake.

"Ok now what?" Remus asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius retorted.

"Only that, earlier when I said I maybe had a plan, you said you already had an even better one. And when I asked what it was, you said: Don't worry about it, you'll see. And so now I'm just really curious to see what the next part of the plan is."  
"Nobody likes a finger pointer!"  
"The next part is figuring out how this thing works," said James and freed himself from the lap bar. Then he pulled the black elf out of the cart and left him on the platform. He climbed into the driver's seat. He saw a lever, some pedals and of course the handlebar for steering.

"Ok I think I got it now."  
"Just out of curiosity, Moo," said Sirius. "What role was your BB gum going to play in your plan?"

"It wasn't going to play any role," Remus replied.

"In that case: what is it?"

"Nothing special. I just found this in the Box of Random Crap."

By 'this' he meant a flashlight. The Finder's Flashlight. Switched on, the beam took the form of an arrow, pointing in the direction of whatever the weilder was looking for.

Sirius switched it on and the arrow pointed straight ahead. James put the pedal to the metal and the draisine began to move at a rapid speed, rendering the dark surroundings blurry.

"Stop!" Sirius yelled when he saw that the arrow was pointing backwards. They had gone too far.

James pulled the handbrake and the draisine came to a screeching halt.

"Go back," said Sirius.

"Ok. How do I put this in reverse gear?"

"You can't. There's no gear stick you wally!"  
"Automat! Blasted!"  
"What about that huge green button with the 'R'?"

"Where do you see that?"

"It's right in front of you."  
"All I see is a huge grey blur with another blur."

James's fancy-ass horn rimmed Basil & Meduso glasses had fallen off his face and on to his lap. Sirius reached for them and put them back on.

"Oh, I see it now. But that's not green."

"Yeah it is."

"No it isn't. Don't you recognise tarquinan when you see it?"

"The hell is 'tarquinan'?"

James pressed the huge tarquinan button and the draisine began to move backwards with a beeping sound. They kept moving backwards very slowly until they came to a crossing, at which the Finder's Flashlight pointed in the right direction.

It was in this manner they eventually managed to locate vault number 3011, Professor McGonagall's vault (Thank you, Dumbledore.). The chaps hopped out of the cart.

"Ok so which one of you has the key?" Remus asked.

"Oh right, that," said James. "I don't."

"Me neither," said Sirius.

"You don't say?" said Remus. "Well, it just so happens-"

"Awesome. What is it?"

"It's... Just out of curiosity: what would you have done if I didn't have anything?"

"Moony, please! Now is not the time for that sort of discussion! Time is precious!"  
Remus dug around in his bag of plenty.

"Well, what I do have is-"

"A fairy that eats doors!"

"No. Are there fairies that eat doors?"

"No idea. Are there?"

Remus began to ransack his mind-zoo for fairies that ate doors. He was taking too long, and needed thus be slapped out of it.

He took from his bag a small jar with a clover in some kind of preserve. There was nothing special about it, it was just a regular three leaf clover that could be found anywhere.

"It's not a clover leaf," he said. "It's a raskovnik. Pretty awesome, isn't it?"

"You tell me that is not a clover leaf?" said Sirius. "But some rascal called Nick?"

"Is he some genious burglar?" James asked. "Friend of Fletcher maybe?

"Fletcher doesn't have friends."

"I use the term loosely. And he has _you."_

"Not until he starts wearing clean pants. Then we can discuss it."

"Still, a plantmagus! I've never heard of one before!"

"Can't be super handy in the end, 'though. With the roots."

"Can't be less handy than a sofa-magus. With the... static-ness? Staticity?"

"Let's call it a clover leaf for simplicity's sake," said Remus. "Although it isn't one. This belongs to the grass family, as opposed to the family of heterosporous aquatic and semi-aquatic ferns."  
"Thanks, Sprout, but I don't see what it's orientation's got to do with it," said Sirius.  
"It doesn't. It's not a clover-leaf, that's the point."

"Then what is it?"

"But I will refer to it as such anyway so you won't make stupid puns."

"Then why the crash course herbology when we're trying to commit a crime here?"

"Fun fact?"

"Eh."

"Forget all that then."

Remus plucked the not-clover from the jar using tweezers and rubbed it gently against the lock to the vault, thereby unlocking it as well as leaving a small golden patch where the not-clover had touched it.

(Herbology class lacked segments like this. Field trips to banks wouldn't be a bad idea.)  
"I guess that's cool," said James. "And it was cool of Fletcher to let you have that."

"I could have gotten my own, except I didn't feel like wandering around various meadows in leg irons. Not since the land owner thought I was looking for mushrooms."

The chaps could now go inside Professor McGonagall's vault. It was full of piles of gold and other precious metals. Banknotes could not be introduced soon enough. What was this, Tudor times? But it sure looked impressive.

"We're actually committing burglary," said James.

"What? Are you having second thoughts?" Sirius asked.

"No. I just really don't want to be caught."  
"Nobody wants to be caught, Prongs."

"I wonder about you, sometimes."

"Moony doesn't want to be caught and I respect that, because he's been such a driving force in this burglary. We would never have been able to do it without him, and we would never have done it in the first place had he not been so very keen on it."

"Hey!" said Remus, and there was definitely a hint of protest in that tone. "I haven't been keen on this!"

"It was your idea."

"Maybe, but-"

"You wanted to get the pesky boo from that Chinese restaurant."

"But that was just-"

"And you even brought the hetero smores so we could commit this burglary nice and easy. We're lazy and never bring anything, but you always have you crime tool kit with you!"  
"I wish we had drinks," said James. "So we could make a toast!"

"It's not a crime tool kit!" Remus protested, a little more loudly this time. "And this is not a burglary!"  
"What does this look like to you?"

"It's activism! I thought we had already established that. And _this_ is _not_ a 'crime tool kit'!"

"That was a lie, I thought you got that," said Sirius.

"These caves, I mean... What, are you really so naive to believe this place has always been a bank? Well, there was a time when... something else lived here. They were exploited. By evil capitalists."

"What things were exploited did you say?"

"I just wanted Professor McGonagall back. If I can save a pixiu from certain death at the same time, great! This is not a burglary because we're not here to steal anything, _OK?"  
_ He smacked Sirius on the hand.

"I was just looking!"

"That's splitting rabbits, 'though," said James.

"It's 'bunnies'."

"Hairs," said Remus.

"Synonyms. Who cares?"

"We're not here to steal, but come one!" James went on. "The pissy moo is going to eat all the gold!"

"No, we brought the mishy coo for that," Sirius reminded him. "Everybody knows that the pissy moo is strictly vegetarian and a communist. Ha, ha..."

"What?"

"Co- _moon-_ ist."

"Haha. Well anyway. McGonagall is not going to want it back, is what I'm saying," said James. "Not when it comes out the other end."

"It's not going to come out the other end," said Remus.

"It must, if the jizzy hoo eats all that gold."  
"They don't digest it, 'though. They just sort of hold on to it."  
"Do they have infinite bellies or something? If it keeps eating gold it will come out eventually."

"Nope."  
"So they just store it, then?"

"I guess so."

"Hm. Then, out of curiosity, what _do_ they eat?"

"I'm guessing nothing at all."

"What do you base that guess on?"

"You're seriously more interested in this than heterosporous ferns? Because I can tell you _all_ the things-"

"Like, do you even have to ask?"

" _Fine._ The pixiu doesn't have an anus, ok?"

"Uhm, what?"

"It _doesn't_ have an _anus!"  
_ "Can you say that again?" Sirius asked.

"Did that answer your question?"

"Not even close."

"The story goes, that there's a jade emperor in heaven or Neptune or whatever, and he took the pixiu and spanked its bum shut. But you know, don't believe everything you read. The backstory isn't so important."

"Then why the crash course History of Magic-"

"So you see, the gold can't come out 'the other end'. They keep the gold in their stomach and take it to their master."  
Sirius put up his hand. "Oh! Oh! How do I become its master?"

"You have to unseal its buttocks," Remus replied, and stuck is tongue out.

Sirius just stared at him. "You are fibbing. What if I actually tried that? Could you live with yourself?"

Since that was enough time wasted, Remus whipped out the round capsule with the pixiu and released it. The enormous creature (sorry about the antonomasia, super annoying) with the voracious apppetite for precious metals gobbled all the gold down in a jiffy.

"Come on! How do I become its master?" Sirius nagged.

"I told you, didn't I? See how the tail is just sort of covering the crack? If you rip it open, all the gold will shoot out like a treasure firework!"  
James nodded.

"Fireworks is a Chinese thing so I could believe that."

"Fine then I will do that!" said Sirius.

But he couldn't even touch it with the tip of his manicured fingers without it turning and roaring at him. Sirius ran out of the vault, and so did the other chaps.

"Padfoot is a total arse hole," James whispered to Remus. "Unlike the bee shrew, which doesn't have one. But you can tell me the truth. How do I become the master?"

"All you have to do is bring it home and worship it," Remus replied. "But you must practice Feng Shui."

"Come on! Why can't you give the real answer instead of these obviously made up ones with made up words!"

The agressive roaring had subsided and the chaps dared to peek inside the vault. There was not a gold nugget left in there, and the pixiu was pacing around, hungry for more.

Then sirens. A distant voice speaking through a megaphone:

" _This is the aurors. We have you partially surrounded. Come out with you hands up!"_

"I knew we forgot something," said Sirius, referring to the alarm that they apparently had triggered.

James switched on the Finder's Flashlight for an auror free exit. The arrow kept spinning around, unable to make up its mind.

"Come _oooon!"  
_ "Have you tried switching it off and on again?"

The Finder's Flashlight seemed to know that they were surrounded from every direction. Every direction but one: up. There were no aurors anywhere above them.

"Isn't the bank up there?" James wondered.

"Who cares, let's go."  
They had to go through several kilometers of cave ceiling at the very least. This was where Tesco Rick was more handy than McGonagall's bank key would have been, because of its alchemic ability.

"Ok who is the strongest?" Sirius asked.

"Me!" said James instantly.

"Great! Lift me!"  
"After you I mean."  
Sirius was already hopping up on his shoulders, and he was not a feather.

"I could just lift us all by magic," said James.

"For this to work we must be upright, Prongs!"

The ceiling was still too far from Sirius's reach, which was why Remus had to get up on top. Balancing on top of Sirius's shoulders, he could just about brush the not-clover against the stone wall. This created a little gold patch in the stone, which didn't seem like a whole lot.

"Ok I'm going to go down on you know," he said when he was finished.

"Ok good I think my backside has taken enough abuse from you now."

"What?"

"The back side of me, which is my back. What part of that sounded like innuendo to you?"

"Could you get off today, please?" James asked.

"I know somebody who just did-"

"Today? Please?"

The little patch of gold wasn't the entire plan. The next very crucial step was to somehow attach the not-clover to the pixiu's nose. Somehow, with _something._

"We should have brought glue," said James.

"Yeah, or... Or treacle!" said Sirius.

"I might still have that lollipop thet eye doctor gave me some months ago. Hm, nope. I guess I ate it."

"I guess just about anything sugary will do!"  
Then James and Sirius shut their mouths, just to allow Peter to contribute with something if he could. He sometimes carried sweets.

"Oh!" Peter said and began to search his robes.

But if he had something useful on him, he was taking too long finding it.

" _This is the aurors!",_ came the aurors. " _We now have you on our radar!"  
_ "Oh, _fine!"_ said Sirius to Remus. "You have permission to do _your thing!"_

 _"_ Ok good!" said Remus. "Uhm do you have a piece of gold?"

"Weell, weeell, weeell!"

"Well do you?"

"Yeah here."

He let him have one of his gold rings, which was probably a heirloom because he only ever got rid of those just to spite his mum. So Remus ran inside the vault with it, did his thing and then the ring came flying out of the vault, and the pixiu right after it. Sirius removed his nan's gold bracelet of Guaranteed Victory and flung it in the air, just to get the pixiu on track.

"We could have used that right now," said James.

"I just did."  
The pixiu headbutted the gold patch in the ceiling fiercely, broke off some stone and created a new patch with the not-clover on its nose. It reminded Sirius of something, perhaps of a stag going at another stag over some lady stag.

"It was a good documentary," he said. "But I just think that people who film shagging animals are creeps. Is it prudish and un-bloky of me to feel that way?"

"I don't know about that," said James. "But I would just like to point out that a stag-on-stag showdown does not look like that. What documentary were you watching?"

"Bambi."

"Can't have been."

"Ohh it might have been something about some fruity spanish bull..."

"There's no mating in Bambi. There's just a lot of foreplay."  
"God..," Remus muttered, like he somehow thought it was sacrilegious to discuss foreplay in a beloved children's film.

Well, it was true! There was a lot of foreplay in Bambi! But, he was something of a prude.

"What now?" James asked.

"I'd just really like to get on the pixiu while it's still close enough."

The pixiu had dug itself quite a hole already, and it was still going.

"Ok who is heaviest?" Sirius asked.

"Well it depends," said James. "Are we talking fat weight or muscle weight?"

He kissed his "guns".

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked him.

"Kissing my guns."

"Do you have guns in those skinny worms you call arms? Why didn't you say it sooner?"

"What if you stand upside down?" Remus suggested.

"But I don't have a hiccup," said James.

"There's a smart idea," said Sirius. "Stand upside down! Or I shall whip you with this Necklace of Immortality!"

James hadn't showed off his hand-standing skills in a while, but he could still do it against a wall. The robes fell over his face and he had to tuck them so they wouldn't. Sirius searched them for the Hazel Telecaster and stuck it between James's teeth. He spat it out.

"I can do this with one hand!"

He raised Remus first, so he could test the waters of fur sensitivity.

"I'm letting you test the waters of fur sensitivity! _Furst!"_

Sirius opened his mouth, probably to say something hilaaarious. But he never got to say it, because his mouth was instantly pumped full of bubblegum. He chewed it down.

"Do you only do strawberry?" Already he had such a bad cramp in the jaws!

Up in the air, Remus grabbed hold of the pixiu's long white fur and climbed onto its back without it taking any notice of him whatsoever, because it was so distracted by the gold. Peter climbed onto it next.

Sirius managed to turn the bubblegum in his mouth to jelly so he could spit it all out.

"Do you need to hold on to me or something?" he asked.

"No. I can lift myself," James replied.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

When Sirius had made it to the back of the pixiu, James pointed the wand at himself. He could lift himself fine, although not without spinning around like a cartwheel. But he made it to the pixiu, large as it was, its back had just enough back space left to fit him.

The pixiu had dug quite a deep hole now, but it still had kilometers worth of cave and vaults to get through. This was going to take a while. A too long while.

"I wish the cave ceiling was made of something less dense," said Remus.

"If you've had something that grants wishes _all this time-"_ said Sirius.

"This is your chance to grant my wish. Jelly is less dense!"

"But pixius don't eat jelly. They don't have ani."

"Or," said James. "Is it _anae?"_

But now was no time for crash course latin.

"It might eat gold jelly!" said Remus.

So Sirius shrugged, and turned the entire bank to jelly.

"Better?"

"Uhm well... Ok then."

"Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Could maybe have done with less damage, but it's fine, if it's what you could do-"

"Less damage? Your fishy stew is sabotaging ten bank vaults per second and you're asking _me_ to do less damage?"

"It's not mine. It's ours."

"So when it's sabotaging bankvaults, suddenly it's _ours!"_

"You had a part in it. I did not carry it around for nine minutes for you to forget that." _  
_"You're so overdue for a divorce," said James. "Or hot sex. Am I right, Wormtail?"

"I don't get it," Peter replied.

"It means they're acting frus- you know, it's fine if you don't."

Meanwhile the pixiu devoured the gold jelly with such speed they found themselves in the Diagon Alley Woodlands within a minute. They could see the shadow of the jellified bank in the distance, and the many conic light beams the aurors used to look for them. The chaps dismounted the pixiu and Remus collected it in the capsule and tucked it away.

"In that case, _I_ get the holidays!" said Sirius.

"You are so not!"

"Well, that was too easy," said James. "Do you have some lucky heirloom on you we don't know of?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Sirius replied.

"That was seriously embarassing, how easy that was."

Then they found themselves caged and back tied.


	12. Chapter 12

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 12

The interrogation chamber of the Auror Headquarters was at least fifty shades of grey. The walls were battleship, the table was ash, the chairs gunmetal and the floor such a dark grey it was closer to being a shade of black than a shade of grey. But there weren't shades of black, Only really dark greys.

The auror wizard wore a robe as good as taken from Joseph And The Amazing Monochromatic Dream Cloak, a musical by Arachne Boil Webber currently trending on the Wizard's West End.

The room was so poorly lit up the auror's face was hidden in shadow. He could just about be made out looking in some papers.

"So," he said. "Theft, burglary, vandalism, not to mention _activism!_ You can't be first timers."

"We're innocent!" said James. "We've been nowhere near the bank tonight! We've only been in the Woodlands, where you found us!"

"Spare me the gobbledycock! The bank network runs beneath all of Diagon Alley, including the very Woodlands, where I heard you congratulate yourselves on your succesfully carried out crime."  
"Well um no but actually," came Sirius eloquently. "That's what the _real_ criminals wanted you to believe! We were just in the wrong place the wrong time. Role playing."

"Shut up! I am trained to recognise a criminal from their aura. And that's not _all_ I'm trained to recognise!"

When the auror wizard stepped under a light he not only revealed his tag- D.I. Moody- but also his face! He looked rough and hardened, like he had fought in _The Wizard 'Nam,_ and one of his eyes was overdue for an exocist.  
Detective Moody was twirling a band of silver beads. He held them very close to Remus, who sneezed.

"A _ha!_ You boys better go while I summon hunters. This is not a safe place for you."  
"Why what happened?" Sirius asked.

"Because, and this may be very hard for you to believe and you might not want to accept it, but there is a werewolf among you. I SAID CALM DOWN! DON'T PANIC!"

"Why is this not a safe environment for us?"

Detective Moody just stared at him with his regular eye, while his funny eye just acted funny.

"Are you serious?"

"Do I know you?"

"We try not to ask him that," said James to the detective.

Detective Moody scratched his curly hair.

"Do you not realise the danger?" he asked.

"Hey we've _tried,_ ok?! We really have!"

"Like, why do you think we needed to turn to a path of crime for our kicks?" Sirius asked, and passed Remus a handkerchief. "Not that we did that stuff with the bank..."

Detective Moody could not believe what he was seeing.

"Either you did not hear me, or you're under some kind of spell! I said that you three could leave!"

Peter pushed his chair away from the desk. When the others showed no signs of leaving, he moved it back.

The detective turned away, involuntarily touched by the loyalty.

"I dont' understand. Never have I seen anything like it. You're all mad. Or maybe I'm the mad one, because when I see you, all I can think of is how I wish that I, too, had a friend that I was so homoerotically close to-"

"Hey!" said James. "I'm not a homoerotic!"

Detective Moody whipped out his note pad. "Just making a note of calling your mums so I don't forget. Ok, so that's one, two, three mums I have to contact. Werewolves don't have mums, because that would only humanise them and confuse the masses. I don't know what came over me just now. Must be because I'm quarter Greek. Come one, Alastophanes Moudacouscous, get yourself together, man! I'm clearly not right in the head. I better get Sergeant Manny to take over-"  
"NO!" the chaps protested.

Detective Moody, although completely bonkers, actually seemed like an auror that could be reasoned with.

"Sir," said James. "So maybe we broke into the bank. But it wasn't to steal."

"It was activism," said Sirius. "We think banks are capitalist and we want to return the caves to the dwarves! Let the sunshine in!"

"But most of all, we did it to get our teacher back, because she's the only one who makes us want to better ourselves."

"Who's your teacher?" the detective asked.

"Professor McGonagall."

"Ohh. Yeah, she was hot."

"So we're not bad," said Sirius. "Just... extreme."

"That's nice, but it doesn't change the fact that you broke the law. This isn't some American legal comedy-drama, where I have the power to free you if your speech is sentimental enough. Now, you young wizards may get yourselves lawyers, but its off to the gallows with the beast!"

DUN DUN DUUUUN! The detective rattled the silver beads some more.

"You don't really want to do that," said James. "You couldn't. Not to his mum!"

"What are you talking about? That there doesn't have a mum. That would make him a person and we can't have that!"

"She'll be stricken with grief! And she's already been stricken with grief one time. The time... she couldn't protect him."

"Shut up! Shut up!"  
"She's been trying to make amends ever since. Trying to pay off a debt... that can never be paid off..."

"Stop it!"  
"Because you can fix what is broken, but not... what is destroyed."

Sirius began to crack now,.

"In my eye, something, I got."

"He is all she has. If you send him to the gallows, she will have failed for the very last time."

"No!"  
The detective fell into a puddle of tears, and so did Sirius.

"Damn it, Prongs! We haven't progressed this far yet! Look away!"  
But instead they fell blubbering into eachother's arms. The Detective blew his nose in his robes.

"Well, I'm Greek," he confessed. "So I have license to be emotional. Oh, why did you have to make this so difficult for me? If only there was a good way to resolve this."  
"Well, if you're Greek, and my friend here is French or something, although you couldn't guess it," said James. "Maybe you could work something out?" Wink.

"The thing is," said the detective. "that if I don't send your other chum to the gallows right now, he is essentially free of all charges, since the regular laws don't apply to him. So... Just go! Go before my good eye dries!"

"Thank you, Sir!" said Remus, well baffled but not leaving just yet.

"It must be what they call," said Sirius. "a _loophole."_

"As for you, you and you, however!" said detective Moody, pointing at James, Sirius and Peter. "You answer to the Wizard Law! You broke into Gringotts and that is not some minor offence!"

Sirius slouched nonchalantly.

"Yeah, well, my father runs this law firm that only represents Dark Wizards. Lots of criminals walk free because of him, so..."

"Is that so?"

"Maybe you've seen his name in the papers. It's Black."

"Maybe I have."

"There you go, then. So, like, don't even mess with me because... he _totally_ loves me..."

Yeah, he was bluffing harder than he had ever bluffed before right now, and never had he struggled so much with believing his own lies either.

"I'm trying to remember something here. Didn't he once say that since shapeshifters are never what they seem, they should all be chopped to bits, bagged and donated to science?"

"Well, since shapeshifters are never what they seem, I just don't see the point in bringing them up in court."

"I should have warned you: I really don't like snooty brats blowing up their chests, and I'm really not afraid of lawyers no matter how many squib nursery witches they send to their death."

"Then you have pride issues!" said James. "If you really will let innocent nursery witches die because you have a beef with snooty brats."

The detective's scary eye fixed him next, and it chilled his spine with the way it constantly wanted to pop out.

"Sir. Hey, please don't take this out on me. My father is a diplomat but I didn't feel lthe need to pipe up."

The detective pushed the wonky eye back in and opened the door a little.

"Manny! You can show these criminals to their cells now!"  
"Now wait!" said Remus.

"My eye is dry now so choose your words very carefully! You have until Manny's cleaned up the coffee he spilled just now."

"These guys are no danger to society. Take me instead."

"No, take me instead!" came James instantly (beating Sirius to it by some millisecond.)

"No, take me- _damn!"_

"You simply must take me instead!"  
"No, me instead, I'm better!"

"And I'm... worse."

"No I'm worse instead!"  
The detective put his weary face in his hands. "Great. Gryffindors! MANNY! PLEEEEASE!"

"Besides," said Remus. "If you keep me, you'll be more popular at the office."

"Don't suddenly go and get cocky because of that speech before, shifter! Right now my funny eye- this one- is annoying me so much I want to send all of you to the gallows without inviting any mums! You, and my prosthetic eye healer!"

His wonky eye was hanging by a fleshy thread like a lifeless yoyo. The detective tucked it all back in and tried to put it in place using masking tape. It looked really stupid.

"If there was one person who knew how I could get my eye to stay in place, I would make that person my most homoerotic friend and pull lots of strings in the future."

Sirius leaned towards Remus. "Well, you heard him! Help the man!"  
"I don't want to!"


	13. Chapter 13

WORLD TEACHER AWARD

PART 13

Being released and back at Hogwarts without any drama whatsoever, never could the chaps have imagined just how good it felt. They had been properly worried last night. Today they were enjoying a late breakfast toast on the go.

"I never thought I'd see the day," said James," when an auror could be reasoned with."

"And by 'reasoned with', you mean agreeing with you," Remus not so much asked but stated.

Sirius retorted instantly.

"Hey, Prongs saved your life! How about some gratitude?"

"You're right. That was really amazing, that you memorised an entire monolog from Spells & Curses!"

"Oh, he did so much _more_ than memorised it!"

"How did you know it was from Spells & Curses?" James asked.

"Because you have recurring dreams about auditioning for a part," Remus replied.

"Do I? I don't remember that."

"I'm sorry I ever said you are worse than Lassie," said Sirius. "It just isn't true anymore."

"You know," said James, stopping to lean against a wall. "Last night, it's like... I wasn't acting, you know? I was looking inside of me for experiences that could trigger the right emotions! Does that make any sense at all?"

"I have taught you everything I know. Now you must spread your wings."

"What have you taught me?"

They were outside McGonagall's office and finished their toast.

"Well, McGonagall _did_ say-"

" _MY OFFICE NOW!"_

"Oh, she said it again."

It was nice to see McGonagall's office once again being her old office, with the added details of her World Teacher cup and diploma, as well as plenty of new Tasmanian liquors in her liquor cabinet.

"So that's why you nominated me for Teacher of the Year?" she asked. "To get me out of the country so you could rob me!"  
"No! Never!" cried the chaps.

"And the aurors let you go? ARE THEY MAD? Don't answer that..."

"Well, you know," said James. "We're kids, really..."  
"You're criminals, that's what you are!"  
"Yeah, well, but mostly kids, that's the legal definition."

"You're criminals by the legal definition!"

She could clearly not be reasoned with right now. She was clearly in some state.

"Look, we're sorry," said Sirius.

"Oh, I don't even know why I'm yelling at you, when I brought you in here to thank you."

Uhm what?

"Do you mean sarcastically?" James asked.

McGonagall sighed.

"You see, me lads... The thing is... It's like this. When... Ok, here it is. When a person has a lot of money, they sometimes go a wee bit mad. Suddenly there's just never enough money. So they stop paying their taxes. Not paying ones taxes can get one in real trouble, which is why it's important to not be found out by insulting the wrong person's mum or something. What happened was, the tax wizards were going to snoop in my vault. Doing that they would have found all the money I owed them. But the bank was jelly, and all my money was gone."

McGonagall didn't smile, but she un-frowned.

"But, uhm," said Remus. "That still doesn't undo the fact that you didn't pay your taxes, does it?"

"The money was supposed to be in my vault. But it wasn't. Those idiots had nothing to show that the money had gone elsewhere. They didn't have to know that I had just been robbed. So they wrote it off as some kind of administrative error. All your detentions are cancelled."

xxx

After having given the pixiu to McGonagall and told her to convert to Zen, the chaps went outdoors for a celebratory breath of fresh nictotine.  
"Did that make any sense to you?" James asked. "I mean, was it plausible at all, what McGonagall said?"

"It was totally plausible, Sirius insisted so they could just move on from that. "More importantly, can you believe that all our detentions have been cancelled? I just don't know what to do with all that time!"

"After all the hard work to fill all the slots. Now we have to start over."  
"I don't even know who I am anymore!"

Slughorn stopped by to hassle them about not being at last night's Slug charades. James and Sirius promised him dearly, that they'd attend the next charades, so he'd go away.

"We should just nominate him for Teacher of the Year," said James.

"Yeah let's do that!" said Sirius.

"Or better yet!" said Remus. "Nomitate Saddist!"  
"Saddits?" said James. "Oh come on, he's not really so bad."

"He makes you hit me with foam balls."

"The objective of the game is to _avoid_ being hit."

"It's never been the objective of my game! Except it is a pretty good objective, generally I guess, in life... But it's _still_ a stupid game."  
"Ok I'm up for nominating Saddist," said Sirius.

"Oh, I see!" said James. " _Cas and Padfoot, sitting in a tree!_ Are you really so threatened?"

"By what?"

"His thick, Glaswegian accent, sports kilt and love of tabbies."

"If you want in, you know where to find us."  
"Being homoerotic in the library I bet!"  
"You got it!" 


End file.
